


Kings Never Die

by V0xter



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Gen, Updating as we go along, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:00:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28965018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/V0xter/pseuds/V0xter
Summary: So we all know how Technoblade doesn’t die right?Well what if we follow his deathless life of monarchy
Kudos: 5





	Kings Never Die

A fresh relaxing kind of numbness washed over him, the kind you forget about in day to day life. The snow was numbing like that, leaving his mind completely blank for once, giving him the clarity he so desperately desired. One of the perks of living in the snow biome. 

Until he realised just how hard it was to breathe, the cold as it was made it difficult, more dense,  _ dry _ he was told, warned even; now more than ever he was struggling. 

It burnt.

That was the most notable physical feeling, something he wasn’t unfamiliar with. Sometimes he regretted founding a kingdom of snow and ice, such a contrast from where he was raised and currently he really wished he were back in the warm fiery embrace of hell.   
Anywhere but here. 

Unknowingly he regained enough consciousness to realise something else, a more pressing matter. Just off the center of his shoulder was a grounded netherite sword, thicker than his arm, coincidently almost in his arm. 

He figured it was lucky though; the fact he couldn’t feel the pain anymore, that was if he could even feel it to begin with. With that much adrenaline you tend to forget the pain; it was calming once again. Sparring, letting the peace wash over, feral, unstoppable, knowing there was so much more to lose. 

After all, a fight with nothing to gain was his favourite. What fun would there be if he didn’t win?

Something with bloodshed, to plaster over the white landscape, a new vibrant colour, the sort of thing to distract. Maybe that was the reason he chose the cleanest biome around, as sadistic as that may be. 

It was  _ never _ about winning.   
It was about not losing.   
It was about keeping up appearances.   
It was about the  _ blood _ . Allowing the land around him; the land he ruled, to change to a more  _ familiar _ blazing colour.

Through glazed, unfocused eyes memories of how he ended up sandwiched under the other male came trickling back into  _ his _ mind.

___

  
  


**Monarch-** ‘A person to whom their people have sworn allegiance and are willing to listen to in exchange for protection, a promise of help if needed.’ 

The people of a kingdom relied on the monarch to look after them, in return they work.   
Without the people the monarch would have nothing to rule. Without a King or Queen, the people would have no direction or purpose.

Fitting into the status quo isn’t too difficult, just that:

A monarch  _ is _ hereditary.   
A monarch  _ has _ to be an individual from an aristocratic state.   
A monarch  _ must _ not fall to tyranny.

There are some who believe the monarchs have been appointed by God. Families chosen because of the good fortune they could bring. Who was to argue with a disciple of God even if it wasn’t a God of their own beliefs. How can a simple mortal prove nothing is immortal, there was no way to disprove the monarchy so why even try? 

Even believing in nothing is believing in something and was an adequate rule to subdue the masses. The less they understand the better.

Others in fact just fall into place thanks to the hierarchy. A simple state of being born into the aristocratic atmosphere. Being born in the right place at the right time.   
Maybe, for him, all applied. Sometimes that's just how it worked. To say if that was fair or not well, it simply isn’t a matter you should concern yourself with. 

But, not everything about the hierarchy was as simple as being a set piece, the ministry may in fact look like a simple game of chess from the outside but every government has its differences.

Absolute monarchists are in  _ direct _ control of the running of the kingdom.   
Ceremonial monarchists have no power but are a figurehead to the people.   
Constitutional monarchists retain the most power but can be disregarded by the people’s parliament.

He was an absolute. 

He  _ owned _ his kingdom, he  _ owned  _ his people and he  _ owned _ the rights to King.   
The only other people with any input were his royal guards. The only person whose ideas ever got  _ considered _ was his second in command.

He wasn’t a dictator.

If a rebellion were to occur, the reigning monarch is disposed of, either exiled or executed to make the change  _ permanent _ .  
No attempts had been successful.

He  _ wasn’t _ a dictator.

He was  _ a  _ God's intended ruler.  _ Dictators _ weren't chosen by God, they were chosen by the people.

_He_ _wasn’t a_ _dictator._

He was  _ the  _ King.   
A kingdom without a King would just fall to ruins- anarchy. 

_ Maybe that's what they really wanted. _

Maybe that's what  _ he _ really wanted.

Did he even  _ want _ to rule?   
Did anyone really  _ want _ to rule?

He was raised under the guidance of leadership, not the kind that leads to dictatorship. 

_ The _ monarch.

But, that still didn’t mean it was  _ right _ or what  _ he _ wanted.  _ He shouldn’t want.   
_ It was his purpose. There was no other choice.

He  _ was _ just the vessel for  _ them _ .

He  _ was _ the most important man to the  _ people _ .  
Not only his own. He was sure.

They respected him because they knew no different. It was how the hierarchy worked, it was how it should have worked. He knew this. He’d trained for  _ this _ his whole life.

Maybe it was how they didn’t respect him out of decency as he learned, they feared him, it didn't feel right. Then again no one dare question a power greater than they understood. Something the  _ King _ knew all too well. In their eyes he was a God, loyalty rather than fear perhaps?

That's how he took it, it was fine. He deserved the pedestal he was given, he  _ was _ above  _ everyone _ else no matter how others viewed him.

He was  _ not _ a tyrannical leader. 

Unfortunately not everyone was on board with this new King and blind following that ensued, some did in fact try to understand him, befriend him.  _ Backstabbers.   
_ He was challenged, he was ambushed, he was trialed. Many failed assassination attempts. Many more banishments. Much more  _ blood _ .

Treason.   
That's what his head guard called it. And he supposed it was, any act of treachery or disloyalty to the king was treason.

It didn’t bother him like it would anyone else. He was invincible. Invulnerable to the attacks. He had enough power that nothing from anyone lower on the hierarchy could stop him. 

Phil called him dumb for thinking he was indestructible. That in itself would be seen as treason.  
But he trusted Phil, they were  _ friends _ .  _ Phil was loyal. _

Phil was here because he was a good person, he wanted to help, he wanted to save, and no other reason. He wasn't here because it was Techno. He didn't feel the same way, he couldn’t. Noone was meant to feel.   
_ No one would ever be here, if it was only for Technoblade. _

Friends was a new term for him.

Something of a luxury he supposed or maybe more of a dilemma, he knew at some point he'd have to dispose of said friends but why not test out the new terminology for a while? They do say loyaltys a game changing trait no matter how unfamiliar it was to him.

What could go wrong?

He’d been warned his whole life to never trust someone who's not  _ blood _ , but what good did trusting his  _ own _ blood do?  
It wasn’t like any of them survived. 

Yet he didn't want to be  _ alone _ again _. _ He didn't want to feel the betrayal again either.   
But he had no future, in this place at least. He didn't think he ever truly had a future, honestly, and perhaps that was for the best.   
God did he want this to all be over. He'd do anything, to end it all.

To end  _ him _ .   
He knew that’d never happen but the thought itself-

_ Pure ecstasy. _

**____**

  
  


Techno flinched slightly as his tusk slit through a gash in his lip.  
Maybe he did in fact go too far this time,   
_ once again. _

Dreams lifeless body all but crumpled to the floor with nothing more than a thud. Leaving in its place a lifeless man; a shattered  _ mask _ .

They’d been sparing, nothing new or unusual, both of them excellent fighters always finding an excuse to ‘practice’ and all.  
_ If you could call it that. _

It was a fucking bloodbath to say the least, the sort of dance that left no witnesses. Both men fought with such uniform passion and vigor not able to tell each other from anyone else. If you just so happened to be passing by the field the men decided to take up, expect to wake up at your respawn point with no recollection of how you got there except an expertly placed scar. 

It was extremely well known knowledge to not interrupt the King mid duel, even more known to not disrupt him and Dream.

Not that that stopped people from wanting to watch the show, they were both well rehearsed afterall.

_ It was intoxicating.  _ For all parties involved. 

The triumphant male  _ less _ than carelessly wiped the blood from his mouth onto his cloak,  _ it was red for a reason after all _ , then stopped to examine it for a moment. He was covered in  _ blood _ .  
Not only Dreams it seemed. That in itself was… different. 

He remembered the first time he had gotten injured to this extent, and decided he'd rather ignore the thought and instead focus on the feeling of how he had been genuinely shocked that he had his  _ own _ actual blood in his system, it felt like he had been living in the darkness for so long that the only thing running through his veins by now must've been  _ him _ . He’s not bled for so long. No one dare lay even a scratch on him, or maybe no one had ever been able to.

He knew he was untouchable in a sense.

Dream would forgive him. The masked man wouldn’t dare speak of what happened, would he even remember?   
He sighed and kept walking carrying the other man back to his quarters slight limp in his otherwise perfected step.

But, there was still blood. Warm, comforting,  _ red _ . A small reminder that he was actually alive. Somewhat  _ human _ . Despite how inhuman  _ he _ just acted, how inhuman he looked.

Sometimes he really wished to just stop being alive altogether. It would've been for the best, for everyone. His people get to permanently be rid of him, never have to see him again, never have to hear his voice again. They'd finally get their  _ justice _ , finally get to forget and move on to a new King.

For him, it'd be a way to finally escape the hell  _ he _ had built. All the mistakes  _ he _ had made, the terrible things  _ he _ had done, the people  _ he _ had hurt,  _ he _ had mamed,  _ he  _ had killed... he would be able to escape  _ him _ , forever.

But that was too merciful for someone like him. He knew it. He knew he didn't deserve to find peace. There would be no rest for him, even in death he knew this. So be it, this was his righteous punishment, the fair judgement for the crimes he had committed. It didn't matter how much he would suffer, because he couldn't escape it. The eternity of misery and loneliness, hatred, that was his part to play in the game, may as well live up to expectations. 

He wouldn't expect any less. 

From anyone, really. He only reaped what he had sow, God knows he had  _ sown _ . And sometimes, for the shortest of moments that passed by him way too fast, he'd feel something warm inside, because  _ he _ knew he finally got what he deserved.

_  
He would make sure everyone else hurt as much as he did. It wasn’t his fault they were so dependent on friendships. _

___

Techno was back.   
13 hours.

The king disappearing for hours wasn’t unusual at all. He was a busy man.   
But he’d usually at least warn someone he was leaving for a while, when he didn’t shit was gonna go down, Wilbur learnt this the hard way.

No words spoken between them as Wilbur took the King's soaked cloak and crown. The other situated himself on Wilburs bed unbuttoning his  _ now _ red bloodstained shirt. With whose blood? Wilbur didn't know.  
He wouldn't ask.

It made the man take a breath, steady himself, slow down in whatever rush of thoughts in his head came up from it all. He always worried himself too much, yet at the same time his worries were so deeply valid; some of those scars he knew the king owned, even the few he could see curling up those arms across his chest, were still healing. Indefinitely healing it seemed. He knew just how self destructive the king was, but who was he to stop him?

The excuse was always that he never did it to himself and whereas that is technically the truth Wilbur knew better. The only reason Techno would fight or ‘spar’ with anyone, recently and most especially Dream, was so he could hurt.

Wilbur wasn’t stupid.

What tipped it off was how Techno was being very quiet tonight, that also wasn’t unusual but paired with how extremely tired he looked and no matter how calm the pig seemed, it set him on the vaguest of edges. They sat in silence as Wilbur tended to his wounds, new and old, not a word exchanged between them.   
A wince every so often from the King but other than that nothing. What was there to say?

Yet this, it made him feel so, so-   
...he didn't really know. These things, these feelings, what he had with the King, with Techno, it felt so extremely delicate sometimes. As if it would shatter if he said the wrong thing, did the wrong thing, acted a certain way, and then the shards would be everywhere, unfixable. At that point neither would know what to do.

He trusted Techno with his life, he knew the king thought differently but there were always the times when the king needed someone to just listen.   
He'd be there. 

Other times, it was as if a leech had strapped on to his back and just wouldn't leave, no matter how much he yelled or cursed or tried to hurt it. He knew it was the response the King wanted. But a leech was a simple creature, it did not deserve such reaction, such abuse. 

Men, humans, hybrids, they could be so  _ so _ different.  
So  _ difficult. _

He’d wish Techno could make things simpler, just speak to him, just  _ tell _ him how to help. He could see how bad the king was suffering, maybe none of the others realised it but he did.

No one, no matter how foul, deserved to suffer.  
...right?

Techno may have been a horrid resentful disgusting person. But he was Wilbur's friend, his brother.

  
He'd  _ never _ abandon his king.

**Author's Note:**

> Does this make a bit more sense? Idk the plot lines changin a little bit but the same sorta vibe, just more of a lead up yano?  
> Idk ty for readin ily


End file.
